arbitrate (daynight) (11 page)

Doc clasped his hands together. “Excellent. A diplomatic visit to Garden City is exactly what we need. I’ve got an entire outline of things we need to discuss with the Ten.”

“Fantastic.” I muttered. “At least they have air conditioning.”

Present

I awake in a
pile of my own drool, my back aching from the hard surface. I’ve gone soft. For ages, I lived in far worse conditions. I wonder for a moment how Bailey and Doc Daryn are coming along with their Exiler Nation movement. They’ve been spreading the seeds of discontent throughout the Theran cities for months now. Second Chancers have been arranging their own Exiles and joining with the Survivalists. Only Bailey could persuade people to leave the comforts and confines of city life for the harsh conditions of Exile.
 

The Exiler Nation doesn’t plan to sleep on hard cave floors like this one for long. If the SCI won’t recognize them as a valid political entity and let them build real cities, the Exilers have a plan to overthrow Garden City. Bailey is nothing if not ambitious.

I haven’t seen her since the day of Kira’s attack, and I can only imagine how furious she is about that. Will I ever see her again to face her wrath? I do know one thing. My captors don’t want me dead. Had they wanted me dead, I’d be dead.

There’s even less light in my dungeon than earlier, so I’m guessing the sun’s going down. I’m not looking forward to being in pitch black. I stare at my watch and contemplate pushing the button.
Not yet.
 

I stand and stretch my sore muscles and pace the cave, ducking under the low spots in the ceiling. When that gets old, I play tic-tac-toe in the dirt. I win. I win again. I switch to hangman and start to lose on purpose so that I can fill out Darryl Bradford’s body.

The door opens and I briefly consider rushing the person and trying to escape down the canyon.
No. I need answers.

It’s not Thor. Despite the dim lighting I can tell Darryl Bradford is my visitor by the tall, thin profile, dark shirt, jeans, and the baseball cap. Thor does follow him though with two folding chairs and a bottle of water, which he throws to me before leaving, closing, and locking the door behind him.

I unfold my chair, sit in it, and then remove the cap to the water bottle. I drain half before deciding I should save the rest in case I’ll be here for a while without more. Darryl sits in his seat and then illuminates a small lantern so that I can see him clearly.

We study each other for several moments. Sparks of familiarity eat at the edges of my consciousness, but I try to reject them. Don’t want to believe what my brain’s screaming.
This man’s not Darryl Bradford.

The voice clinches it. “Blake Sundry. Well, well, well. Long time no see.” He saw past my disguise too.

Impossible.

Some people should stay dead.

“Love doesn't start in the morning and end in the evening. It starts when you don't need it and sometimes ends when you need it the most.”

—Unknown

CHAPTER SEVEN

Kira

I wake up to Jax’s vanilla scent but no sign of him.
That’s not unusual. The few times he has stayed past the end of my day terror was when Ethan was poised to find us. I’ve been sleeping in a small servant’s room near the nursery. Ethan has been gone a couple nights—supposedly to “do some thinking” back on Earth but in reality to see his girlfriend Alexa. It stings. Everything about how Ethan has handled things hurts, from his refusal to trust me to threatening Jax’s life.

The clock reads 1900 hours. I’m typically woken up before now for a feeding. There’s a post-it note next to my clock that says, “Come find us.” Jax and I brought stacks of post-its and pens back from Earth after our last “on-the-run” trip there.

I pull on a robe and then check the nursery. A post-it note on the hideous crib reads, “This is not fit for children. Try again.” I chuckle.

Given the hour, I head for the kitchen next to see if they are there. Jax often works out at an obscenely early hour. Afterwards for breakfast, he eats enough to feed a small country. There’s a plate of delectable looking donuts and a note on the kitchen counter. “Nice try. Get your sugar fix and speed up your search.”

I smile and grab a donut. He knows me so well. Some people need caffeine to start their evening. Ever since I got pregnant, I require a less than healthy dose of sugar.
 

I’m not sure where to check next. I head down the wing towards Ethan’s room and see a note on his door that says, “Cold.” Yes, that does describe this place. I backtrack towards Ethan’s office and again find a note that reads, “Cold.” The hall to the gym yields similar results. This place is ridiculous. I feel like I’m in one of those Halloween corn mazes hitting a dead end at every turn. Where have I missed?

“Jackson Christo, where are you?” I call from the kitchen. I notice a door twenty feet to the left of the hall to Ethan’s room that I thought was a supply room. It has a note on it. “Warmer.” I swear the note wasn’t there a few minutes ago. The door has an odd handle. I reach for it, hear a click, and I’m able to push the door open.

I feel like I’ve stepped from Minimalist Hell straight into a fairy tale.

I’m in a large playroom done in warm colors and equipped to the hilt. One wall contains large, dark wood cabinets labeled “3-6 months,” “6-12 months,” “12-18 months.” Inside are toys and books applicable to each age. Not an over the top number—but enough to keep the babies busy. I guess I can put Ethan’s ugly plastic grapes back in his office.

There’s a TV screen playing cartoons, a baby swing, jumper, and a giant play castle, complete with tower. I want to take the time to see everything but want to find Jax and the babies more. A hall extends from the back of the room. On the wall next to it, there’s a note saying, “Even Warmer.”

I walk down the hall. Now there are arrows pointing the way. They take me past a door on the right with a note saying, “Skip,” all the way down the hall and to a door on the left. I open it and find a nicely furnished room—with mostly white, male attire in the closet—and pictures of me and the babies framed on the dresser. Jax’s room.
 

More notes with arrows lead to an adjoining door. Through it is my dream bedroom, the one I described to Jax just the other night when asking if I could do “Extreme Makeover-Kira Edition” on this place. A four-poster bed adorned in warm gold and blue tones. Framed pictures of the babies, my parents, and my brother on the wall, with a mural of my favorite beach in San Diego behind them. There’s a walk-in closet full of a variety of clothes—none of which are shimmering or look like they belong on a hooker.

I press on and open another adjoining door. Behind it, I find the babies’ nursery. One round crib fit for a princess, a dark wood crib fit for a king, and room for a third crib. There’s a changing table. The walls have hand painted murals of fairy tale scenes. And finally, there are both a couch and a rocking chair.

Jax is sleeping in the rocking chair, his hair sticking out in every direction. And he has two babies snuggled together and pressed against him.

He brought Evvie.

Tears stream down my face. I stand and watch. The sight is beautiful. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Jax sleep. He looks so relaxed and angelic.

Gads, I love him. I mean, I know I can’t fall
in love
with him despite how easy it would be. He is Ethan’s brother and has never shown anything more than a fierce desire to protect me and the babies. And I’ve pretty much proven I’m a failure in the love department. But Jax has more honor in his pinky finger than most men will ever have. How many guys could climb in bed with a girl every day to solely give her comfort rather than make a move? Not many. Jax either has the world’s best restraint or just isn’t remotely attracted to me. Given he has only seen me at my worst—a hormonal train wreck—I’m pretty sure it’s the latter.

I look around the room again. Jax did all this for us. My heart could not be more full.

A huge dimple-full smile washes across his face, and an eye pops open.
 

“What took you so long, love?”

I can’t help but laugh. “This place is so huge that you were able to do a full remodel of a section without me noticing.” I peel Evvie off him, lean her against my chest, press a kiss to her hair, and inhale her sweet baby smell. Even though Jax has snuck me off to Heart to see her nightly, it hasn’t been the same.

“Extreme Home Makeover-Jax style. Do you approve?”

He stands and puts Zander into his crib, rubbing his back until he settles back down. I reluctantly put Evvie in hers. She’s sound asleep.

“Hmmmm…” I tap on my cheek. “You seem to have forgotten the petting zoo and amusement park. But other than that, it is pretty much…perfect. Just like you.” I push up on to my tiptoes, wrap my arms around his neck, and bury my hands in his hair. Man I love his hair. I could play with it all day. I give him a kiss on the cheek and then pull him into a hug.

He squeezes me and twirls me in a circle before setting me down. “Did you say that I am perfect? That’s
so much
better than the last thing you said about me.”

I furrow my brow trying to figure out what he’s talking about. “What did I say?”

He gives me a serious look. “On the ship out of Garden City, you had some very choice words to describe me and what you would like to have happen to me.”

I put my hands on my hips. “Tell me…”

Jax grins and shakes his head. “You were having a bad evening at the time. As long as I’m perfect now…”

What could I have said? All I remember is the boat rocking, and me puking and being in a terrible funk. It’ll come to me, but my mind is currently blank. “Whatever it was, I use the pregnancy defense. I wasn’t in my right mind at the time. So if I thought of you as anything less than perfect, I humbly apologize and beg for your forgiveness.”

“You are definitely forgiven.”

He stares at me, dropping his gaze to my lips with a look that sends shivers through every nerve in my body. My heart starts pounding. Then he runs his thumb across the corner of my mouth, and my breath hitches. In a low voice he whispers, “Donut residue. I should have brought you sugar that evening. Then, maybe, you would have been a little nicer.”
 

“Sugar is the way to a girl’s heart.” I blush furiously, realizing I implied he is after my heart. Of course he isn’t. Gads, I’m an idiot thinking that I saw desire on his face. It was only wishful thinking on my part. He was only staring at my lips because I had
donut
on them, not because he wanted to kiss me. I can’t help but be a little disappointed and have to hold back a frown.

Jax winks at me. “Silly girl. Let me give you a tour of the rest.” He grabs my hand, intertwines his fingers with mine, and takes me through the door I’d skipped by when following the arrows. There are rooms for the babies’ day and night nurses—both Arbiter, grandmother-aged women. There’s a room for an Arbiter guard—who will stay whenever Jax has to leave on business. And a room set up for me to do my therapy in. My therapist—an Arbiter from Heart—will, apparently, be popping in and out. I also managed to miss the “snack center” off the playroom.

“Are you okay with me being right next door to you?” Jax asks when he walks me from his room to mine. “I always know when you need me, so I don’t need to be so close if it makes you uncomfortable.”

I sit down on the edge of my bed, and Jax sits next to me. With a crooked grin, I say, “I’m fine with it. After all, we have lived under the same roof for the last year. I’m sure Ethan will be furious…or not. Maybe he’ll appreciate the privacy, so he can entertain his lady friend.”

Jax pulls my chin up, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “Kira, first of all—Ethan can’t get into this wing. Each door’s handprint-encoded. It’s for Evvie’s—all the babies—and your safety. He could try to portal in, but I don’t think that will work since he doesn’t know what the interior looks like. To placate him, I’ve put an intercom at each door where he can ask for Zander. And second, just because your Cleaving to Ethan is dissolved doesn’t mean that things need to be a mess with Ethan. He’s hurt and angry and horribly jealous, but he still cares for you. Because of Zander, he’s always going to be a part of your life. So, you need to make peace with him, start over, and see if he’s the guy you want to be with.”

I blink and feel the water pool in my eyes. My tongue feels thick in my mouth, and I can’t form words since my brain’s a mess of jumbled thoughts. I’m not sure I can ever forgive Ethan for threatening to kill Jax. I don’t care what he thought or how jealous he was. I can’t believe Jax is pushing me back his way.

He presses his forehead against mine. “Love, I’m not telling you that you have to be or should be with Ethan. You’re going to have to figure out what
you
want. And when you are ready to give your whole heart to someone—without hesitation or restriction—then you’ll know that it’s right. In the meantime, try not to judge Ethan for how he reacted to some pretty extreme circumstances. He thought you were dead. And then he found us together. Nothing will drive a guy mad faster than seeing the girl he loves with someone else.”

Twelve months prior: at sea, Thera

An all too chipper
Jax was shaking me. “Rise and shine, love. We have work to do.”
 

I peeked at the clock and confirmed that this was not an hour that any normal human being would want to be awake on Thera. But, then again, Jax was far from a normal human being. He plucked people from the grips of death and brought them to Thera. Whenever he drove me crazy, which was often, I teased him about his “day job” as the Grim Reaper.

Just an hour ago, I was awake and puking up dark-yellow stomach acid. And the hour before that. And the hour before that… I got maybe two hours sleep total. Evening sickness would have been bad enough but evening sickness on a moving ship—lethal combination.

“Go away. There’s no love here.” I swatted his hand away, so he proceeded to strip the covers off me, and I was blasted with cold air. My daygown was no match for the frigid temperature the ship was kept at.